147 days
by TamaraJagellovsk
Summary: ...in my fave vamp's unlife. Buffy is dead and Spike is trying to cope.
1. Day 3

Day 1 to 3 he had spent hidden away in his crypt. He had told himself he needed the time to heal, to recover from the fall he had taken, or else he wouldn't be any good to anyone. And he had cried. Useless buckets of salt over Buffy's - passing. He still couldn't get himself to use the d-word. Yes. Recovery. That was the reason he didn't go outside. It had nothing to do with the feeling of utter despair that hadn't left him for one second since he'd seen her lying on the ground. He did think about simply starving himself to death. Or maybe if that would take too long he could finally go outside. Around noon would be good he figured.


	2. Day 5

After nightfall of day 5 his vampire senses picked up an eerily familiar sound from just outside the crypt. One of his kind getting dusted. Followed by what could only be a figment of his sleep deprived imagination - Buffy laughing triumphantly and throwing some bad quip at the recently deceased. It couldn't be. He stood just inside his door, listening to retreating footsteps that sounded so much like hers it turned his insides out. He had seen her lying there. And there was a new gravestone in the cemetery that had her name on it. He'd never known her middle name... He shook his head in an attempt to clear it. It couldn't be. No way could she be walking around Sunnydale. Somebody would have told him. He huffed out a bitter laugh. As if.


	3. Day 7

Spike had been standing in his usual spot outside the Summers house for an hour before he dared to step closer. He considered knocking, or simply going in – he'd find out soon enough whether or not the Scoobies had uninvited him again. But then he settled for looking in through a window. And there she was. Smiling and talking and moving around the house. It couldn't be. Had they tried that resurrection spell thing again? And why the bloody hell hadn't anyone felt like that might be information worth sharing with him? He couldn't take it any longer.

Interesting. He hadn't been uninvited.

"What did you do?", Spike demanded of nobody in particular, his eyes fixed on Buffy. She turned around and beamed at him.

"Spike!" She looked at Willow, still smiling widely. "It's Spike, and he's wearing the coat!"

Spike stared at her for an endless moment, willing reality to bend to his wishes, and when it didn't he thought he could feel his unbeating heart shatter to pieces. As if that hadn't already happened. His shoulders slumped.

"Oh", was all he said. All eyes were on him, but it was Dawn who spoke.

"Willow fixed her, Spike. We needed Buffy."

"This. Isn't Buffy", Spike growled through gritted teeth. "And when were you going to tell me?"

When he just met silence he let out a breath.

"Fine. Don't talk to me. Not interested in the bot anyway."

He left the house, his heart heavier than it had ever been in the seven days since her – death. Face it, Spike. She's gone.


	4. Day 8

He felt like kicking her. Hard enough to make the bloody bot break in two, stomp on it until it was past Willow's ability to fix it. Instead he gently traced her cheek. She felt so good...and she looked at him like the real Buffy never had, with affection and something close to worship. And sadness. Wait a minute, why was Buffybot sad?

"What's up, luv?", he softly asked her, head tilted, eyebrows raised. She moved a little closer.

"Don't you like me anymore, Spike?"

His jaw set. He couldn't do this. This wasn't Buffy, it was a machine that he had ordered like you order a tool or a toy. And she – it – wasn't capable of being sad. But she did a damn good imitation, and he just couldn't take it. She trailed her hand down his chest. "I still have all those programs, you know? Listen to Spike, obey Spike, please -"

"Stop it!" He abruptly turned away from her – it, damn it! "Get out of my crypt."

"So it's true", the bot said in a very small voice, all joyfulness gone, "you really don't like me anymore. What have I done wrong? Maybe Willow can have a look at my programming, change me somehow, so that you like me again? Do you want me to ask her?"

Spike closed his eyes to fight the tears, his throat constricting. The bot sounded so lost, so lonely. Just as lonely as he felt himself. He slowly turned back to her.

"There's nothing wrong with you, luv. It's me. I've had a – couple of crappy days. I'm sorry, OK? Don't look at me like that."

Buffybot reached out and gently cupped his face, and he couldn't help but move into the touch. He was so spent, so raw and so utterly alone. So what if it – she – wasn't the real thing. He moved into her, and she stood on tiptoe, smiling softly at him, and then she kissed him. So sweet. So painful. So not real Buffy. And he fell apart. Buffybot spent an hour putting the pieces back together, endlessly patient, and after that hour and a lot of bourbon Spike had finally convinced himself that she was enough Buffy for him. She was all the Buffy he deserved.


	5. Day 9

Spike woke up completely hung over. He barely remembered anything from last night, but the slender body curled up against his side gave him a pretty good clue. In the – admittedly dim – light of day he realized just how wrong that night had been. The bot looked like it was asleep. Probably ran out of power some time during the night, he figured. He needed to get it back to the Scoobies. He needed to get it away from him. He managed to carry it all the way to the Summers house, covered by his good old smoking blanket. He knew there were blisters on his hands and probably the back of his neck where the blanket had repeatedly slipped off, but he just couldn't get himself to care. He dropped Buffybot at the back door, knocked, and turned away.

"Spike?"

He closed his eyes for a moment. Crap. The niblet. Shouldn't she be in school or something?

"Come on in, you're going to burn yourself to death!"

She had a point. No way would he make it all the way back to his crypt without at least taking a break.

Spike had carried the bot upstairs into Buffy's room, and Dawn had plugged it in. Spike tore himself away from her door.

"How're you holding up, little bit?"

Dawn shrugged.

"Sometimes I can just pretend that she's – her. And then she says something so unbelievably stupid that I feel like slapping her, and it's as if I realize for the first time that she's gone. Only it keeps happening. I just don't get used to it."

"Give it time, niblet. It'll get easier."

Dawn snorted. "Don't tell me you really believe that."

 _I have to._

He didn't say it.

"Why did you do it anyway? Red, I mean, why did she put the bot back together?"

"Giles said we needed her. Patroling and stuff. Something about a vacuum attracting more beasties."

Spike smiled.

"I'm sure those were his exact words."

Dawn returned his smile. "I'm translating from Giles to English as we speak."

It felt good to see her smile, felt good to talk to someone. He straightened.

"Tell the gang I was here, and that I'm back amongst the not living if they need my help. You know, filling that vacuum and stuff."

He made for the door, but then he turned back.

"And Dawn?"

She looked up at the use of her name. He never did that!

"I'm sorry. I made a promise to big sis and I couldn't deliver. I should have protected you. I'm sorry I didn't."

She stood a little closer. "The way I remember it you really tried."

"Yeah well, tried wasn't enough as it turned out."

Dawn didn't know what to say. She felt like hugging him, but wasn't sure if he'd be OK with that. So she settled for a smile instead. He nodded once and left, careful not to expose any bare skin to the blazing California sun.


	6. Day 10

Dawn knocked, but there was no answer. He had to be there – it was the middle of the afternoon, where else would he be? She slowly opened the door.

"Spike? Are you there? It's Dawn."

She could hear something from – erm, downstairs? - and then he called out:

"I'll be right there."

A moment later he came up the ladder. Dawn stared at him.

"What?"

"Uh, nothing. It's just -" She'd never seen him right out of bed. He'd obviously just thrown on his jeans and t-shirt, and his hair looked – different. She pulled herself together.

"I just came to say I'm sorry. You know, for not telling you about the bot. I guess we just didn't – we weren't thinking, Spike. I'm sorry. We should have told you."

Spike gave her a small smile.

"You had a lot on your minds, all of you. I'm good."

Dawn nodded.

"OK, I'll just get back then. Sorry for waking you up."

"Now that I'm awake anyway, why don't you stay a little?"

Great, Spike, could you sound any more pathetic? Dawn hesitated.

"I guess..."

They looked at each other for a moment, unsure what to do, and then Dawn's eyes turned soft.

"You're all alone. You're always alone. How do you do that?"

Spike averted his eyes.

"I manage. I'm a big boy, you know?"


	7. Day 25

"I got an A!"

"On the Macbeth assignment?"

"Yep!"

Dawn was beaming. Huh. Who would have thought she'd do _that_ good with what he told her _._ He'd been helping with her homework whenever she asked. It had been fun to see how she warmed up to literature she had claimed was lame. Plays and sonnets that he had always loved. He had enjoyed explaining things to her – it had done him good, taken his mind off the slayer. Those days he drank way less than usual. Dawn plopped down in his armchair and looked up at him still beaming.

"Actually it might have been a little too good - my teacher asked me if my parents had helped with it. She's new, she doesn't know about mom."

Spike's face fell.

"Dawn, I'm sorry..."

"No, that's OK. I told her my dad isn't living with us and my mom died last year, so... "

She didn't look too upset, so he tried for a lighter tone:

"So that shut her up?"

"Yes it did."

Dawn sobered.

"In my mind I gave her a different answer though."

"Like what?"

"Like 'I did have help. From a friend who's really good at this stuff'."

Spike felt a rush of pride. She considered him a friend. And she thought he was good at something. Something else than providing muscle or intel when needed. He shook it off. This was something good. He decided to hang on to it.

"So, what's the next assignment?"

Dawn frowned.

"Stupid."

He just gave her his trademark head tilt.

"She wants us to write our own poem."

"And you don't like that?"

"I don't know. I just don't think I can do it. And what if the class laughs at me, and anyway, what should I write about?"

"Do you still keep that diary of yours?"

"Started a new one a while after the whole key thing, why?"

"I bet there's something in there that would make a good poem. What did she say about the style she wanted?"

"She said we could do whatever we wanted, it didn't have to rhyme or anything. But how is that a poem then?"

Spike smiled, thinking how much poetry had changed since his day. Maybe he should take her to a poetry slam some day. It had taken him a while, but now he liked the modern stuff. Wild, dangerous, quick, and often very powerful – all of a sudden he felt like putting pen to paper himself. God how long had that been...He realized Dawn was still waiting for an answer.

"Why don't you just try and find something that you would like to write about – something that would be OK for people to know. Give it a try, and if you like, we can have a look at it together before you hand it in."

She still looked skeptical, but then she shrugged with the resignation typical for students all over the world. She knew she would have to do it anyway, so why not do it his way.


	8. Day 27

"Read it to me."

"What? No way!"

"Look, there's a rhythm to a poem, a certain flow. Nobody knows that as well as the writer does. Read it to me. Please."

She still didn't seem convinced.

"Wouldn't you want _me_ to hear it first rather than your class?"

"You think she'll make me read it to the class?!"

"If she knows what she's doing – she will. Poetry is hanging words in the air. Come on."

He nudged her shoulder with his.

"Humor me."

Dawn kept her gaze on the sheet even after she was finished, refusing to make eye contact. But she could hear the smile in his voice when he said her name, trying to make her look at him. Finally she did, and he _was_ smiling.

"It's beautiful."

"You think?"

"Yes. Aren't you happy with it?"

"Well, yeah, I guess I am. If it wasn't for the last line."

"What's wrong with it?"

"I'm not sure, it just doesn't feel right. Maybe it needs something more, a word I didn't think of?"

"Maybe. Or maybe it needs less."

"Huh?"

"Sometimes a line becomes stronger when you get rid of something. Change the structure, break it up. Find out if there's anything there that you don't need – and scratch it. Might make it more powerful. Poetry is distilled short stories, you know?"

Dawn stared at him until he shrugged.

"Just sayin'."


	9. Day 42

"It's math!"

Dawn looked at Spike as if she'd seen a ghost. It made him chuckle.

"Yeah well, I guess maths hasn't changed all that much in the last 100 years, has it?"

She shook her head still unable to process that he wanted to help her with _that_ , but then she got out her maths homework anyway. He looked at what she had written, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

"Here. Got it."

He pointed out the flaw in her equation.

"It's all correct until here, and from here you carried that mistake on through the whole thing. Therefore your result had to be wrong."

He looked up to find her staring at him.

"What?"

"Who are you and what have you done with Spike?"

"What, you thought I was too dumb to understand high school maths?"

"No! I just – I don't know, I didn't think you'd care. It didn't feel like your thing."

He shrugged, a little embarrassed about snapping at her. And she was still looking at him.

"You're way smarter than they know."

He turned away.

"Yeah, well, it's not like they care much."

"Well, I do..."

Something in her voice drew him back to her, made him look into her eyes again. He realized how close they were, closer than ever before, and before he knew it she'd closed her eyes and leaned in, and then her lips met his and he responded. So good, so sweet, so gentle...the tiny little moan the kiss drew from her was like a kick in the head. So wrong!

He pulled back, breaking the kiss.

"Dawn..."

She looked at him, eyes wide. He straightened, putting a little more distance between them.

"I can't. This is wrong. I -"

She looked like she wanted to flee.

"I'm sorry", she choked out, and then she did flee, but Spike was faster. He put himself between her and the door and reached out for her.

"Hey. Where do you think you're going?"

"To find a hole to crawl into and not come out until I'm 80."

"Dawn, listen to me. I'm not what you want."

"Would you stop doing that?"

"What?"

"Treating me like the others do! Like they know what's right for me and I'm the stupid little kid who doesn't have a clue."

"Dawn. _Listen_ to me. You're smart, and brave, and beautiful. There has to be a guy out there who can see that. Who's not undead, and supposed to take care of you. And besides, I can't. I'm still – I mean, there's still -"

When she saw the pain in his eyes she gave him a sad little smile.

"Buffy. She's gone, but you still love her, don't you?"

"Don't _you_?"

Dawn just kept looking at him, and he could see the tears well up in her eyes.

"C'mere", he breathed and pulled her into his arms. He held her until her sobbing died down, desperately trying to keep his own pain under control. When she had calmed down a little he drew back to look at her.

"Dawn...I do love you, you know that, right?"

She drew a shaky breath.

"This is the part where you tell me we can be friends, and that I'm like a kid sister to you, right?"

He gave her a real smile.

"We _are_ friends, at least that's what I thought. And there's nothing wrong with being my kid sister. In fact you do remind me - "

He stopped mid sentence. It took Dawn a moment, but then she asked:

"Wait a minute. Are you telling me you have a sister? I mean, had? Before..."

"Before I was turned. Yeah. Never told anyone about her. And everyone who knew her is long gone. So. What's the fuss."

"I wanna know, please. How old was she? I mean, how much younger than you?"

He considered not answering her, but eventually he gave in.

"13 years. She would have been a handful at your age. Only she never made it to your age."

Spike realized he had never written a single word about her. Maybe he should.

"She was very sick. She died at the age of eight."

"Oh my God. I'm so sorry, Spike."

"She loved to draw, and she was good." She had always asked him about his poems, wanting to draw something to go along with them, so...

"I made up stories, and she would draw what came to her mind. When she fell ill that was pretty much all she did all day."

They were silent for a long moment, Spike lost in another life, and Dawn unsure what to say. Or more like working up the courage to ask what she wanted to know. Finally she drew a breath.

"What were you like, back then?"

Spike shook his head.

"You don't wanna know."

"Well I just asked, right?"

"You wouldn't have liked the man I was."

He knew she liked him because she thought he was cool, and dangerous. Telling her about the insecure, lonely poet he had been would so blow his cover. It was bad enough that she'd seen him weak because of Buffy.

When it became apparent that he wouldn't say more Dawn pulled herself together.

"OK, I guess I'd better go now. Oh and Spike?"

"Hm?"

"Can we not... talk about, you know? Ever?"

He gave her a soft smile.

"Depends."

"On what?"

Smile gone, he looked at her intensely.

"On whether you're OK."

"I'll live."

"That's not good enough."

"What do you want me to say?"

She sighed.

"I'll get over it. Until then I'd just like to be around you without – you know, things being weird."

His smile was back when he told her they would be OK. And she believed him.


	10. Day 48

**Sorry - I've been held up a little, but now we can go on. Massive thanks to ebineez01 for beta'ing as always, but also for helping me get my head around something. You rock!**

It had gotten late. Dawn had asked Spike to explain a sonnet to her and they had gone from that one to another one and then another one. Eventually he closed the book.

"I should probably walk you home. Don't want you out there on your own after dark."

Dawn didn't want to stop. It was nice sitting with him like that, listening to him read Shakespeare. She usually didn't get it, the language was too unfamiliar to her, but when he talked about what he thought it meant it started to make sense. She sighed. He was right, and she hated that. They would start to get worried about her.

They walked side by side in silence until Dawn said:

"You know, you should teach me to fight. So I can defend myself."

Spike stopped to look at her.

"That's actually a good idea."

"Really?"

She was so used to Buffy telling her no that it took her by surprise.

"Really. Sunnydale is a dangerous place. I'd feel better knowing you can look after yourself."

She started to smile.

"So it's a deal?"

"Deal. We'll start tomorrow after school. I'll make room."

And they did. Homework, and then training. Dawn obviously lacked Buffy's strength, but she was a quick study. He got her once when she messed up a move, accidentally hitting her between the shoulder blades pretty hard. She huffed out a breath and he could tell he had hurt her – instantly proven by his chip going off. He leaned against the wall, desperately trying not to let her see exactly how much it had hurt. She turned around.

"Hey, that was – oh my God. Spike?"

She stood close, reaching out to touch his aching head, and then she pulled him into her arms. He fought the pain for a moment, and then he simply let go. Relaxing into her embrace as if she could draw the pain from him like poison from a wound. They stood until the pain slowly, very slowly started to fade away.

"How long is this gonna hurt?"

"An hour maybe."

"I'm sorry. I didn't even think of the chip."

Spike said it wasn't that bad, but she insisted he get some rest.

"We can pick up where we left off tomorrow."

"OK."

He had to admit to himself that laying down might be a good idea.


	11. Day 83

They were sitting in the Summers living room, discussing their options. But whatever they came up with, they were always one person short. Dawn looked at Spike, and he gave her a tiny nod.

"I can help", she said.

Everyone's head turned to her.

Buffybot started to give her the usual answer, but Dawn interrupted her:

"I've been training with Spike. I can fight."

They looked at each other, and then Buffybot crossed her arms over her chest.

"I'd like to see that. Let's say a vampire comes at you..."

Way faster than anyone had expected Spike attacked Dawn. And while Willow was still pressing her hand to her mouth in shock Dawn was already reacting. They fought each other like they had so many times over the last weeks, and then Buffybot threw her a stake. Dawn caught Spike in the middle of a move and kicked his legs out from under him, and a moment later he was flat on his back looking up at her, painfully aware of the tip of the stake pressing against his chest - as well as of the look in her eyes. She was enjoying this. Way too much.

Xander's eyes narrowed. 'Motherless son of a bitch', he thought. His fists clenched.

"Just do it, Dawn, or I will", he choked out.

Dawn jumped up and faced him.

"Why do you do that? Spike has been nothing but helpful since Buffy died. And all _you_ have ever done is put him down."

Spike stood.

"Leave it, Dawn", he said in a low voice.

"No! I'm not gonna put up with this anymore. This is my house. Spike is my friend. Get used to it or get out, Xander."

Nobody noticed Spike slip out of the house. Xander took a breath.

"Look Dawn, I just don't like you hanging out with Spike this much. He's dangerous, chip or no chip. I know you have a thing for him, and he's just the kind of sicko to take advantage of that."

Her eyes dropped. Don't think about that kiss...she almost told Xander how Spike had _refused_ to take advantage, but she couldn't bring herself to admit what she had done. She could feel herself blush.

"Dawn?"

Oh my God. He already had!

'I'll kill that bastard with my bare hands'.

Xander's jaw set and he left the house, trying to look calm but ready to beat the crap out of the freak.

~o0o~

Spike was almost back at his crypt when he heard a voice behind him, dripping with disgust:

"You useless piece of shit!"

He turned around and was faced with a furious Xander. Huh. The whelp did have some fire after all - ouch. Xander's fist connected with Spike's cheek, not much of a blow but enough to make him lose his balance. And Xander threw himself at him with a lot more force now, and he went down. Xander dealt him blow after blow. He tried to fight back, but all he managed was to get the other man off of him, and even that caused the chip to fire. Pain flared from the back of his head to his temples, and Xander landing another blow didn't help. He went down again, falling to his knees and trying to protect his head, but it only led to Xander kicking him. His ribs, his stomach, again and again until he fell to the ground. The last thing he heard was Xander talking about the sun coming up in the morning, and how much he hoped Spike would still be on the ground by then. And this:

"She's a little girl, Spike. How sick a bastard are you?"

Dawn. They thought...it could have been funny. Ironic actually. How could they think he'd take advantage of her that way, when all he wanted was to be there for her. It didn't matter now.

He knew he wouldn't make it to safety in time. This was it. He'd burn to ashes, hopefully unconscious when it happened. Funny thing that he'd been thinking about doing this to himself right after Buffy died...so Buffy would be his last conscious thought. Fitting somehow. And the world went black.

~o0o~

Spike woke up when someone touched his forehead. He was in his crypt, and the person was Dawn. "This can't be hell then", he whispered. Hurt.

"Spike...what did this?"

"If it had been something I could fight I wouldn't look like this."

She drew a breath.

"A human then?"

"Doesn't matter."

He sat up, but that had been a bad idea. Hurt. And he was way weaker than he had thought. Dawn gently made him lay back down.

"I woke up very early and had a bad feeling, so I came here. Found you just outside your door and dragged you in. I'm afraid I hurt you some more...but the sun was already coming up."

"It's fine, niblet. Saved my life."

"Unlife", she choked out, and the tears started to flow.

He smiled through his pain, reaching out a shaky hand to caress her face. She pulled herself together.

"I don't like you being here on your own. Anything and anyone can get in, and you're in no shape to defend yourself. Not even against something you usually _can_ fight. I need to get you to the house. Actually you need a doctor, but -"

"I'm no safer at your house, Dawn."

"What? Of course you're safe there. There's only me and the girls and - oh my god. Did – Xander?! But why?"

"He thinks there's something going on between you and me. Guess he's jealous..."

Dawn was furious. Who did Xander think he was? But she had more important things to do now. She'd give Xander a piece of her mind later. Looking more closely at Spike she got really worried. He was so weak, and she didn't even know exactly how bad he was hurt. They needed help.

~o0o~

Dawn met Tara at the cemetery.

"Hey, I'm glad you could come."

"Sure, what's the emergency?"

"It's Spike. I didn't wanna tell you over the phone because I wasn't sure if you'd come...if you'd help us. But I don't know who else to ask. He's badly hurt."

~o0o~

Tara was summing up her examination:

"There are bad bruises on your chest and stomach _and_ your back, I'm pretty sure at least one rib is broken, and we don't even have to talk about your face. How's your head?"

"Hurts."

Tara gave him a look.

"Bad", he admitted.

"Nausea? Dizziness?"

"Yeah. I mean both."

"OK, I'll get some supplies from the magic shop. When did you last eat?"

"Uh, it's been a while. Not sure there's much left in my fridge."

"I'll get you some blood on my way back. Dawn, stay with him. He'd better not pass out if at all possible."

When Tara had left Spike touched Dawn's arm.

"Can you check if there's _any_ blood left? I guess I really need to eat something."

Dawn smiled at the mixture of things she found in his fridge. Blood (very little, unfortunately), beer, milk, juice. She knew the latter were there because of her. Just like her favorite cereals had magically appeared at his crypt, along with some chocolate, and potato chips. She returned to Spike with half a glass of blood.

"Sorry, that's all that was left."

She helped him drink it, slow small sips, and then he lay back down.

"So, talk to me", she said. "Tara said no passing out."

"What d'ya wanna talk about?"

"Anything. How do you pay for that stuff in your fridge for example?"

He groaned.

"Really? That's what you wanna talk about, keeping an injured man company?"

"Well, I've always wondered..."

He sighed.

"OK, fine, but don't tell."

She frowned.

"So it's illegal."

"Not exactly."

"Not _exactly_?"

"I got a job. Security. At a club."

She stared at him.

"What good are you at security if you can't fight?"

"It's not exactly a human club."

Huh. She started to smile as she pictured him dealing with an unruly crowd of demon trouble makers. Oh he had to love that.

"Are you happy with it?"

"It's good money."

"Yeah but are you happy with it?"

"It's a job, niblet. It's not supposed to make me happy. It's supposed to buy me blood. And cereals."

It sounded as if he'd rather be doing something else.

"Who are you, Spike?"

"Told you, you don't wanna know."

"I'm not talking about the killer. I mean before that. When you were human."

"I got you."

She considered that for a moment.

"Oh my God. It _hurts_. You're not keeping it from me because it's bad, you do it because it hurts to think about it."

He turned away from her, a helpless attempt at protecting himself. She softly touched his shoulder.

"Hey. Don't be upset with me."

He turned back.

"I'm not upset. Well...not with you anyway."

"It's OK, Spike. You don't wanna talk, you don't talk."

He held her gaze, and for a moment she thought he'd start to talk if it hadn't been for Tara coming back.

She did what she could for him, equal parts first aid and magic, and Dawn made him drink some more blood. Tara had said she expected him to be better the next day, and up and running in three or four days, so Dawn finally started to relax a little.

~o0o~

Dawn had spent most of her time away from school at Spike's crypt, and making sure he ate and drank the potion Tara had mixed. But on the third day he was still weak and dizzy, and Dawn didn't like it one bit. When he finally admitted that his head still hurt she had enough, so she called Tara again, asking her to come by and check on him once more.

"There's something I didn't see the first time. Did you hit the back of your head, or were you hit with something?"

He shook is head.

"Not that I remember. Wait. I went down pretty hard – maybe I hit a rock or something, why?"

"I thought it was just a concussion, but you actually cracked your skull. I'll need a very powerful healing spell, and I need to do it fast. But it's gonna take a lot of energy from both of us. I just hope you're up to it. I could make it worse, but we don't have much choice."

Dawn turned pale. She swallowed.

"Can _I_ do something? Anything?"

Tara considered.

"Actually, yes. If you lent us some of your energy, we might pull it off."

Spike was laying on his side, Tara's right hand hovering over the back of his head. She reached out with her left and took Dawn's hand.

"Spike, take Dawn's other hand."

She took a breath.

"This is going to hurt", she warned him.

"Great."

He looked at Dawn, and then he closed his eyes.

"Get the party started."

Tara murmured the words of the spell, a frown of concentration on her face. Dawn closed her eyes, too, but she could feel something between the three of them, like a low humming wavering, floating between their hands and Spike's head. She could hear that he was in pain. Keeping her eyes shut she tried to focus on helping him instead of feeling sorry for him. His grip on her hand tightened, bordering on painful.

"Almost there", Tara said under her breath. Spike gave Dawn's hand a brutal squeeze that drew a moan of pain from her, and then he went slack.

Dawn's eyes flew open.

"Tara?"

"It's OK. It's done, it worked, it's just been a lot for him. But he'll be OK."

Dawn felt so relieved she thought she would start to cry.

"Thank you, Tara. You saved him."

"That's OK. Just make sure he rests. And you need to do that, too."


	12. Day 88

Dawn decided it was time to talk to Xander. She tracked him down at his place, and she skipped the small talk.

"You almost killed Spike! You beat him up when you _knew_ he couldn't defend himself, and you just left him out there to die."

Xander was stunned. He'd never seen little Dawnie like this.

"I was just trying to make a point."

"Which wasn't yours to make in the first place."

Huh.

"I'll say it again. Get used to Spike being a part of my life or I don't want you in my house. Or anywhere near me. And if you go against him again I swear you'll regret it."

When did she become unbelievably scary?

Dawn left Xander's place still fuming, but at the same time she realized how spent she was. She really needed a few hours of sleep in her own bed.

She woke up to the scent of hot chocolate. Sitting up she took the mug from Tara.

"How's Spike?", the witch asked her.

"Way better. You did it."

" _We_ did it. How are _you_?"

"I'm good. Rested."

Dawn sipped the chocolate and they were silent for a moment.

"Dawn, if there's anything you need to talk about, I'm here. OK?"

Dawn considered for a moment.

"I kinda took Xander's head off."

"We're talking figuratively, right?"

Dawn huffed out a small laugh.

"Yes."

"What for?"

"It was him, Tara. It was Xander who did that to Spike. He almost killed him."

Tara's eyebrows went up.

"What? But why?"

"He thinks that Spike and I...but it's not true. We're friends, and I won't just stand back and watch while he's getting hurt."


	13. DAy 103

Something was off about Dawn tonight. Her nervous energy was almost visible. She had been pacing for almost half an hour when he finally gave up waiting for her to tell him.

"What's up, niblet?"

She didn't look at him, but at least she stopped pacing.

"There's this thing at school, Parent/ Teacher Day."

"U-hu?"

Dawn threw herself into his armchair.

"I don't want the bot to go there. She'll mess it up, I just know it."

Finally she did look at Spike.

"I wish _you_ could go."

He burst out laughing, but when he saw her face he sobered.

"You're being serious about this."

She closely examined a spot on the armchair.

"I feel like you're the only one who really understands me. I would _like_ you to be there."

Before he could say anything she took a breath and went on:

"I know. Not going to happen. And you couldn't anyway. There's daylight involved."

She had really given this some thought! How sad that out of all the people in her life a _vampire_ would be her first choice...

Dawn looked back up at Spike.

"She has one advantage though."

Spike snorted.

"And what advantage would that be?"

"She's nice to you."

Spike's jaw clenched.

"That's not an advantage."

Dawn was still looking at him. He couldn't. She was just a kid, and he was supposed to take care of her. He couldn't burden her with his pain, he shouldn't -

"Talk to me, Spike", she said softly, and she didn't sound like a kid at all. And God he wanted to...he needed to talk...there was nobody he could talk to, and he felt like he was about to suffocate. Funny thing since he didn't need to breathe...but he couldn't. He needed to be strong for her, couldn't let his guard down. Dawn tilted her head a little, still holding his gaze, inviting him to sit with her. And he gave in. He sat down on the armrest and hung his head.

"It hurts, Dawn. Hearing her say those things...she does it because I had her programmed to. And all it does now is hammer home the fact that she _isn't_ Buffy."

Dawn nodded once.

"I'll talk to Willow. I'm sure she can make her stop doing it."

Spike lifted his head and looked at Dawn, surprise evident on his face. The niblet understood, and she was willing to help him. Definitely not a kid anymore.


	14. Day 104

They were all gathered at the house once more, getting ready for patrolling. Spike stayed in the background as much as he could, but Buffybot's eyes were on him anyway.

"Buffy", Willow was saying for the third time, her voice getting louder.

"Hm?"

"I said how much help do you think you'll need?"

The bot gave her the trademark beaming smile.

"Spike and I can go. That way I'll have a way to pass the time in case no beastie shows."

The vampire in question rolled his eyes. Dawn jumped in.

"I can go with you, Buffy. There's still a lot I can learn from you."

Buffybot seemed to think about it for a moment.

"True", she said with a nod. "I can still pass the time with Spike when we come back."

His jaw set, but then Dawn caught his eyes.

'I'll take care of it', she mouthed.

"Buffy, why don't you go pick a weapon for me. From upstairs?"

As soon as Buffybot had disappeared Dawn turned to Willow.

"The way she talks to Spike – that has to stop."

Willow looked between Dawn and Spike for a moment.

"It's gross, isn't it? I can see why you would be upset about it."

Dawn hesitated, but then she nodded.

"Make her stop, OK?"

"OK Dawnie. First thing tomorrow, I promise."

Dawn looked at Spike with a smile, and he returned it. Willow probably wouldn't have bothered if it had been him or if Dawn had told her she was acting on his behalf. Spike felt relieved. From tomorrow on things would be different. Easier. And he had the niblet to thank for that.


	15. Day 112

They had split up into two pairs – Dawn and Spike, Xander and the bot – with Willow overseeing them.

Giles had indicated that it was a difficult night, so they had been tense and jumpy, but so far nothing had shown up. Dawn looked at Spike sideways.

"What", he asked, turning to her.

"Are you OK with the bot now? I mean is it any better?"

He gave her a smile and a small nod.

"Way better. Way easier to ignore it."

It was true. Since Red had overwritten the bot's programming it was way easier to forget how good it had felt. Way easier to image it was real Buffy who wouldn't even give him the time of day. Way easier to stay away from it. And he wasn't hurting all that bad anymore.

Dawn returned his smile.

"That's good."

"Yeah. It is. Thanks again, niblet."

And then all hell broke loose. Willow was shouting at them to get their asses over there, and when they reached the others Xander was already down. Six, seven, eight demons were coming at the bot from all sides. Spike signaled for Dawn to take out the one closest to them and then threw himself at the one attacking the bot from behind. Breaking its neck with one swift motion Spike moved in and took position back to back with the bot. They were fighting for their lives. Well, one unlife and one – whatever. For Dawn's and Willow's and Xander's lives. And for a long time Spike wasn't so sure they would make it. From the corner of his eye he caught Dawn beheading one, but then she went down. Miscalculating her own momentum again. She wasn't used to fighting with an ax.

"Spike!", Buffy yelled, and he turned at the last moment, ducked and let the bot deal with his attacker. He nodded once and took on the next one, realizing it was the last one. Correction. Last but one. The very last one was currently swinging a branch at the bot that look more like a whole tree – and he got her. Shit that looked bad. The bot went down and Spike jumped onto the demon's back, reaching for its chin with one hand and the back of its head with the other. The familiar crunching sound. Last one dealt with.

Xander was coming to, Dawn was getting up, Willow appeared from wherever she had been watching over them. The bot was still on the ground.

They limped back to the house, Spike carrying the bot. Don't look at her face. Don't think about what she feels like in your arms. Don't pull her closer than necessary. As soon as the Scoobies had taken the bot from him he left the house and made his way back to his crypt. This would be one of the 'drink more than usual' nights... 


	16. Day 113

The moment Spike entered the room he felt something was wrong. The bot was up and running, and it turned to him.

"Oh, there's Spike! I'm fully functional again! You want me to run a program? One of your favorites?"

Spike closed his eyes. Please no. Haven't we been over this?  
"Willow!", he growled.  
"I know. But honestly I'm glad I got it running at all. It was pretty much a mess. I'll deal with the details later."  
Great. Details. Like his gut clenching and his heart breaking and the blood lust building up way too quickly. He had to get out of there.

As it turned out - Willow never got around to dealing with the 'details'.

 **A/N: And here endeth the interlude. Back to canon with you, go watch "Bargaining". Thanks for reading this little thing!**


End file.
